Page 2 of Falling for the King

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘No. I do not.’

Was it a trick of the light or did the set of his shoulders ease slightly?

‘You’ve answered my question, his question, that’s all I need. I’ll inform him of your decision.’

‘I’ll contact him, I don’t need you two discussing me like I’m some piece of furniture.’ She bristled at being treated like a possession to be passed between two powerful men. That was something she would never allow to occur again, after being an unwitting participant seven years ago. Though, to be fair, Xavier had played no part in that.

A flash of something that might be anger or possibly hurt crossed his face. ‘That would never occur,’ he said stiffly, ‘and although I understand your desire to give him your answer yourself, this is the official, traditional way to deal with such matters.’

She pressed her palms together unable to deny the truth. She trusted Xavier. He was one of the few people she did. She’d learned the hard way about trust. And as blood-curdling as she found this situation she understood the delicacies involved, or more precisely King Edgar’s enormous ego and the damage he could try to inflict.

She nodded her consent. ‘If I had said yes, would you have given your approval?’ She couldn’t resist asking. Usually a master at hiding his thoughts, today she’d glimpsed both anger and unease. Would he have preferred her to say yes? Would it have been easier for him and the country he ruled with devotion if she did? Would he have tried to stop her? Did he care either way?

He stood and moved around the desk with a grace belying his size. A beautifully cut dark suit fit his tall and powerful build like it was made for him, which of course it was. His white shirt emphasising his olive skin, gleaming with health and vitality. He was the epitome of a man confident of his place in the world. Stopping an arm’s length away from her, energy bristled around him, as always. Yet today instead of energising her, it felt too close, too edgy, too potent. She channelled her willpower, preventing herself from taking a step backwards to press against the floor to ceiling windows.

‘That question isn’t relevant.’ His dark, short hair burnished in the early afternoon sunlight.

‘Please, I’d like to know.’

The intensity of his stare sent an unexpected twinge of awareness down her spine. Was it because they were having a discussion far outside the boundaries of what they normally did? Xavier had supported her from her wedding day onwards, despite whatever reservations he surely must’ve had beforehand due to her unsuitable background. But he’d done it in a formal manner, their conversations had revolved around duties and responsibilities, never before had they veered into such private territory.

‘You are my brother’s widow, a princess of the royal household who has ruled here for centuries, you have my full protection. You don’t need to marry anyone unless it is your wish. You can go wherever your head leads you.’ He paused for a moment. ‘However, in this instance I would have counselled you to choose more carefully.’

‘But you wouldn’t have tried to stop me?’ she persisted.

‘No,’ he said with an unnerving stillness.

Still she pushed. ‘You wouldn’t have minded me marrying that old lech, being what, wife number six?’

Jamming his hands in his trouser pockets in a very un-Xavier like gesture he stalked across the room. She tracked his movements, all the while telling herself she was cataloguing the differences between himself and her late husband, his fair-headed, slightly built younger brother. But the reality was she couldn’t drag her eyes away.

Xavier stopped on the handwoven rug that held pride of place in the centre of his spacious office. A grateful gesture from the Women’s Association of Maynet after he raised the marriageable age of females from fourteen to eighteen, aligning it with that of males. It was one of the first legislative changes he made when he became king sixteen years ago, at the age of twenty. He paused for a moment then swung around to Katerina planting his feet apart, his hands now by his side.

‘Minded yes. Stopped no. A woman always has the right to choose. But unless you’ve changed your mind it’s a moot point. Or do you want time to reconsider?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘Then the subject is closed.’

‘Good,’ she said, relief easing her breath for the first time since he had broached the unthinkable topic.

‘In which case, you’ll need to speak to your assistant about rearranging your diary, you’ll be joining me on the upcoming Maynetian tour.’

For one heart stopping moment Katerina could only stare at him.

‘I’m joining your tour? We’re touring together? For a month?’ she clarified, doubting her hearing.

‘Correct.’

‘But we haven’t done that before. I’ve only ever toured by myself or with Ma …’

She pulled herself up, shock had lowered her guard. She didn’t like thinking, never mind talking about her one and only tour with her late husband. Pushing out a deep breath, the reasoning finally hit her.

‘It’s because of Edgar, isn’t it?’

‘It’s for a number of reasons, one being the opportunity to promote the work you’re doing to increase the number of women attending university.’

What?